Last week I was having a casual discussion with a friend about the Kickstarter and Fish Tank’s fundraising process. My fellow conversationalist proclaimed something close to the following: “I could never [fundraise like you are]. I am terrified of asking people for money.” I responded with something along the lines of: “Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” but my true and testy thought was, “And you think I’m not terrified?” For me, beseeching funds from anyone (particularly people I’m close with) is about as pleasing as a late-term circumcision. Especially these days, since there seems to be a shortage of money. Seeing as money is in high demand but in short supply, it only makes sense that when people are able to clutch some of that green, this civilization compels them to spend it on themselves; which may include buying shelter, food, Jaguars, guns, and/or liposuction. As a member of this civilization, I respect this. People that earn their keep should get to expend their keep on whatever they want. However, the same civilization in which we all live places a rather low emphasis on independently-produced art. Faced with this unfortunate factor, the independent artist can usually do one of two things. He could produce something loud and easy (creativity: optional), a head-turning piece of sensation. Food sculptures of male reality television stars in slash-fiction poses, or (a little closer to home) a walking dead break-dance film. Never-minding the “is that really art” question, the point is: who wouldn’t want to see those ideas reified? Better rephrase: who wouldn’t give money to see those ideas reified? They practically fund themselves. The second option the artist has in the face of an inexorable lack of funds also happens to be the option that best describes the current state of my production team and me. Say that the artist has little talent in the exploitative arts; he is instead interested in and adept at constructing quieter ventures. Films about people, in which the themes are the undercurrent and not the soundtrack. A story that doesn’t necessarily shatter artistic barriers, but hopefully will shatter the ice in the audience’s heads; at least a little. Something closer to Return of the Secaucus 7 than The Big Chill. I like both films. But at this point in my career, I can only make one or the other. As you may have guessed, the second option does not fund itself like the first option. In fact, the second option actually requires the artist to do some begging. He must call favors, irritate his friends, and do his best to solicit funds for his project’s budget. He does it because he knows with fervor that what he has to make is different and important, and he has needed to tell this story for a long time. So even though I am terrified of alienating people by asking them for donations, it is the ineluctable course of action. By the by, consider becoming a backer for Fish Tank, in case you already haven’t. Even a dollar donation counts.